


Harry Potter and Whose Handwriting IS That?

by ethanchristopher



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Teachers, Bottom Harry Potter, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor Harry Potter, Headmistress Minerva McGonagall, Hogwarts, Hogwarts Professors, M/M, Mutual Pining, Post-Hogwarts, Potions (Harry Potter), Potions Master Draco Malfoy, Professor Draco Malfoy, Professor Harry Potter, Secret Admirer, Teacher Draco Malfoy, Teacher Harry Potter, Tenderness, Top Draco Malfoy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:15:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,651
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27855761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ethanchristopher/pseuds/ethanchristopher
Summary: Harry is the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor. Draco becomes the Potions Professor. Putting their past differences and rivalry aside, the two form an unlikely friendship. But when messages from an anonymous admirer begin appearing around Harry's classroom, he may come to Draco for assistance in finding the romantic culprit.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter
Kudos: 33





	Harry Potter and Whose Handwriting IS That?

Hogwarts had always been Harry's home. One of the few places he felt safe, one of the only places he felt he could truly be himself. It was inevitable that he would return after finishing school, and McGonagall seemingly had the Defense Against the Dark Arts position reserved for him. As if I didn't know, Potter, she had told him when he applied. She offered him the position the same day, and he gratefully accepted.

There had never been a professor so fit for the job, though Harry would argue Remus Lupin could have given him a run for his money. Harry loved teaching, and wondered how he never truly considered it during his own time at the school. The students all looked up to him, knew he would be truthful and understanding to each and every person who entered the classroom. Professor Potter was incredibly loved and admired by any student to pass through the class, and the other professors were happy to have him as part of the staff.

Just before his third year of teaching, McGonagall offered Harry the position of Head of the Gryffindor House, which he accepted without a second thought. Nearing the middle of that same year, she approached him with a question.

"Potter," she called out, "may I have a word?"

He could tell by her tone it was a more serious matter, but from the experience of being called to her office in school, he knew he was not the troublemaker in question. He assumed it must have something to do with a student, so he found a stopping place in his notes and came around the corner of his office. He sat on the edge of his desk, arms folded and attention on the Headmistress.

"Professor Potter, I hope you know I trust your judgement. I hold your opinion quite highly, and I believe you have a good judge of character," she began. She had a sort of mysterious look about her, as if she knew something Harry did not. Harry did not doubt that she did, and he was becoming increasingly curious as to what she could be thinking.

Uncrossing his arms and tilting his head slightly, Harry replied, "I think my judge of character is a decent one, sure. Am I meant to judge someone's character?"

McGonagall pursed her lips slightly and looked at Harry squarely. "I am deeply considering the application of a former student for our Potions position." This was only half of a surprise to Harry, as he knew she had been wishing for an applicant who might breathe some life into the position, and this surely meant someone younger. Though the fact that she had come to Harry undoubtedly meant the former student was someone Harry must have known, possibly quite well.

"That's good, isn't it? We've been looking for just that. Who is it?" Harry inquired, racking his brain for names. Few came to mind, but he had a sneaking suspicion it would be someone from Slytherin, as they always did seem to excel at the subject. Names of Slytherins from days gone by flew through his thoughts, coming back to one name, one he had certainly given some thought before.

McGonagall had her gaze fixed on him, as if she could hear the gears turning in Harry's mind. "I do believe you know him. I want you to be honest with me, Harry. I want to know if you'd vouch for him."

Harry took a deep breath and raised his eyebrows in question. "Who is 'he,' Headmistress?" She met his stare and said the name Harry had known he might hear.

"Draco Malfoy."

Harry slouched slightly, leaning against the desk again. His arms were crossed again and he looked away in thought. "You want to know if I vouch for Malfoy?" he asked her, no venom nor malice in his voice, mostly simple confusion. Although he had obviously not been friends with Draco while in school, they certainly knew each other. Better than most "rivals," Harry thought. He knew Draco had been so conflicted, pulled on both ends by his family and his upbringing, and what he must have known was right deep down. If things had been different, they might have been friends. If Harry hadn't likely been the person Draco cared for least in the world, they might have been even more than that. _Wishful thinking_ , Harry told himself. _And silly_ , _ridiculous_ , _teenage thinking at that_.

"Well, Professor Potter? Any thoughts?" McGonagall inquired softly. She must have known it would be a sore spot. Despite all the years that had passed, as well as the attempt at closure by the two boys before going their separate ways and leaving Hogwarts, Harry and Draco had never truly made up for the years of being schoolyard enemies. Harry had long forgiven Draco, but he was unsure Draco had forgiven him. It went far beyond taunts and teases, well past sneers and few cruel buttons made by children. They had fought on opposite sides of a war, and while Harry could do nothing but look forward, not talking to Draco for years and being entirely uncertain of his regard toward Harry created pause.

Harry looked toward McGonagall again, releasing his lower lip that he had been unaware he was chewing on. "I think Draco would do well," he finally began, "but I have concerns." McGonagall raised an eyebrow inquisitively but said nothing, signaling him to continue. "I mean, not concerns with his qualifications, I'm sure he's great, he always had top marks, didn't he? Better than Hermione some years. I just don't have the foggiest how he must feel about _me_. Would he resent me if he thought I was the reason he was hired? Would it cause conflict to work on the same staff? I would do my best to stay out of his way, I can only assume he would do the same, but this should be his home as much as mine if he's given the position."

McGonagall watched with a half concealed amusement as Harry started to pace, having a conversation with himself.

"I would rather resign than cause any trouble, you know that, but Malfoy and I have never gotten along, we were rivals from the very start. We've tried making up-" He cut himself short and rephrased, "Alright, we _said_ we would try making up, but I'm not sure that it ever really happened. I want nothing less than I want to stir up trouble and a years-old feud, and I'm certain if we just _talked_ -"

"Potter." McGonagall silenced him with his name, the professor looking back to her from where he had been pacing. She sighed gently and walked to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Do you vouch for Draco?"

Harry closed his eyes and let the tension in his shoulders drop. He knew the answer, and he was fairly certain the Headmistress did as well.

"Yes. I know he would do well here."

"Excellent. I'm exceedingly glad you agree," she smiled pleasantly and clapped gently. "He will be here in one weeks' time and I anticipate you being a welcoming and helpful guide should he need anything at all."

Sputtering incredulously, Harry blinked. "You... You had already hired him." A statement, rather than a question. McGonagall gave him a knowing look and a wink.

* * *

That was how Harry found himself working alongside Draco Malfoy. Two professors on the same staff, working and living and eating meals in closer proximity than they had been in years. Despite knowing the awkwardness would likely cease after one simple conversation, the two men seemed far too good at avoiding even meeting their stares. Harry found himself looking to Draco often, wondering how he was, what his life had been like since they seen one another last. And Harry felt Draco's eyes burning into him any time he was turned away, certain those piercing eyes were on him often.

Holiday break was in full swing and many students had gone home for Christmas, leaving the professors with ample free time. Harry had formed the habit of purchasing himself a few new books for the holidays so he had both something to do to keep himself busy, and some supplement for his classes. He considered the act of continuous learning one of the best parts of teaching. He made sure he came down to the Great Hall for meals and occasional socialization, but he was quite comfortable in his private quarters, tucked away with a book detailing the lifespan of grindylows.

This was indeed how he was positioned when there was a tentative knock on the frame of his door. Engrossed in his reading, Harry called, "It's open, come in!"

Standing in his doorway was a fairly awkward Draco Malfoy, dressed in his professor's robes, hair tied back neatly. Harry had remarked to himself on the blond's first day returning to Hogwarts that his hair had grown a substantial length. Not too long not to be manageable, but long enough that Harry had briefly contemplated how it would look if Draco didn't pull it back away from his face every day.

Now, staring at Harry grimly, as if he had come to ask a favor worthy of an unbreakable vow, Draco brought his hands together, rubbing his thumb over his knuckles nervously. Harry quickly shoved a bit of ribbon in his book to hold his place and set it aside.

"Erm, Professor Malfoy. What did you need?" he asked, half afraid to be too formal and half afraid of sounding too familiar too soon. They had not spoken more than a few word since Draco had arrived, after all.

Draco shifted his weight between his feet once, separating his hands. "Honestly, Potter, we've known each other long enough. Just Malfoy is fine. Or... Draco." He spoke gently, afraid if he spoke too loud or too abrasively, the unspoken truce between them might break.

Harry couldn't help but laugh despite himself, earning a half smile from Draco. "Draco, then. And 'Harry' is fine too, by the way." He stood, giving a small stretch to ease the stiffness from his previous position on his sofa. "You never answered my question."

Draco stood up a bit straighter, and Harry would have said the man blushed a bit, if he didn't know better. "Yes, right, well. Headmistress McGonagall told me before I arrived that should I need any help I could come to you. Although I would just _love_ to retrieve another professor for help, you were closest and I figured the great Harry Potter would never pass up the opportunity to help someone in need." Harry would have thought it were a joke. If he didn't know better. He smiled nonetheless.

"Lead the way," Harry replied, following Draco out into the hall and shutting his door behind him.

"You know you're allowed to lose the robes when we don't have classes," he remarked as they walked toward the potions classroom. Only after he'd said it did he realize its possible connotations.

Draco snickered and raised an eyebrow. "Merlin, Harry, we've had half a conversation and you're already trying to get me undressed? At least invite a man to dinner first." It was Harry's turn to blush, a much more evident tint to his cheeks. He said nothing else, only breathed out through his nose sharply, doing his best to convey that he did _not_ appreciate the teasing. Though if he was honest, he was glad Draco was joking around with him, even if it was still a bit awkward. Harry had been wishing for the chance to have a normal conversation with the man, begin what had the potential to be a decent, if not odd, friendship between coworkers.

Arriving at the potions classroom, Harry followed Draco through the large door and leaned against the corner of a stone wall. "So, what help can the great Harry Potter provide?"

Draco walked over to a cabinet and pulled it open to reveal a mess of disorganized liquids, herbs, and empty potion bottles of all shapes and sizes. "As you can see, whomever 'organized' this classroom has left me a great deal of work. I have no idea what I have and what I don't, and creating an inventory is a bit of a necessity before classes begin again. It's not exciting work, nor do I expect you to appreciate me dragging you down to help me clean, but I truly would appreciate the help."

Harry gave a smile and made his way to Draco's desk at the front of the room, spotting a quill and paper. He picked them up and brought them to the student desk closest to the cabinet he had opened, sitting down and looking up expectantly. Draco only smiled lightly, beginning to take bottles down and place them in front of Harry.

For the next several hours they sat and went through as many of the cabinets as they could bear. Harry's head was full of herb names he had scarcely remembered before that day, doing his best to remember which potions each would go in, and failing to impress the new potions professor with his incredibly remedial knowledge of said potions.

"I just can't comprehend why anyone, even a potions professor, would need so much valerian. Isn't that what they put in treacle tarts?" Harry grinned, setting the last bottle of the herb into the cabinet.

"And forgetfulness potions, fire-breathing potions, sleeping draught... It's almost as if you paid no attention in Potions," Draco teased. Harry chuckled and sat back in his seat, letting himself relax.

"That's because I didn't pay any attention in Potions. Aside from the year Slughorn taught, and that was probably only because I had that textbook full of cheats and tricks." Draco nodded, knowing all too well by then of the Half Blood Prince's book.

Setting down his quill, seemingly satisfied with their work, Draco remarked, "It is truly unbelievable to me, though, that you didn't recognize Snape's handwriting after seeing it for years on the chalkboard up front."

Harry shrugged and shook his head. "Hermione has said the same thing. I dunno, I'm just... Not observant, I guess." At this Draco snickered and Harry gave a playful shove. The two laughed and everything seemed a little bit lighter between the two.

"Well, Harry, I must admit you helped me make quick work of that. Thankfully I need to pick up much less than I anticipated." He rolled up the paper and brought it to his desk, setting it atop a few books. "Thank you," he added, not looking back to Harry, but loud enough for the other professor to hear.

"Any time, Draco. I'm happy to help. Besides, I enjoyed myself. Turns out, you're pleasant company," he joked, but he meant it. He was certain, more certain than ever, that they would be alright. That they might be friends at the end of it all. Draco smiled to himself, wrinkling his nose. He turned back around, hands behind his back holding onto the desk but facing Harry again.

"You're not too bad yourself, Harry."

Scratching the back of his neck a bit awkwardly, Harry chuckled and responded, "So, erm, I'll see you at dinner, I hope? Or, well, surely I'll see you at dinner, yeah. If you need any more help let me know." He gave a wave and left Draco in his classroom, heading back to his own room, scolding himself. Why had he been so awkward near the end? Friends compliment each other, friends joke around and enjoy each others' company. Why had he felt so odd, especially at such a simple statement? Harry felt his face burning as it had with Draco's first joke. It was going to be a long school year. It was going to be a long dinner.


End file.
